One More Button
by mysterymuse
Summary: What if Castle and Beckett stayed behind at the Old Haunt, alone, after everyone had gone? Post- Last Call. AU.


**A/N: Post- Last Call. AU. Because Season 3 Beckett and Castle are a hot mess. **

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The alcohol buzzed deliciously through his veins, making everything warm and twinkle. He watched her as her laugh rose, spilling from her lips like music. She twirled her finger around a chestnut curl, while another fingered the rim of her drink.

Everyone had left. It was just the two of them, wrapping up the case, drinking a special liqueur from a particular red bottle. It tasted divine.

She laughed again at something he'd said, her hand parting from her hair to lay on his arm as she unconsciously leaned into her laugh. He could smell her breath, laced with $25,000 scotch, a tantalizing treat. He glanced down at her shirt, remembering earlier where she'd popped another button for him.

God she was sexy...he wanted her. She was so close. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders, framing her face, setting off her gleaming eyes. Her forest green eyes, speckled with brown. Gorgeous.

She smiled up at him, her hand still curled around his arm.

His heart pumped faster as her eyes found his, the air sizzling with tension, his want rolling off him in waves. She was close. So close. He kept his eyes locked with hers as he slowly swept some of her locks behind her shoulder, revealing the graceful curve of her neck. Delicious. She didn't move; silent, her eyes dangerous. His fingers slipped up her neck, feathered across her jaw, finally cupping her cheek in a gentle caress. He felt her breath quicken as her pink mouth opened slightly and her eyes dilated, pupils huge and dark. Desire curled in his stomach, arousal tripping across his skin like liquid fire.

"Tell me to stop, Kate." He murmured softly as to not break the spell.

"Tell me you don't feel this." He gently maneuvered her hand to cover his chest, his heart running, coming alive at the touch of her burning hand.

"God, Castle," she choked, her voice husky.

"When you see him do you feel butterflies in your stomach? Do you feel invigorated when your hands touch? Do you tell a stupid joke just to get him to smile?"

"Rick," her voice breaking, his name coating her lips with want and regret. He wasn't hers. She wasn't his.

Her hand dropped from his heart, but grabbed his big, warm, thick hand and placed it on hers instead.

It felt forbidden. This wasn't them; they were crossing a line that couldn't be uncrossed. He felt exhilarated as the beat of her heart raced to meet his fingertips again and again. For him.

"Look at me."

He did, his eyes licking at her mouth and dark lashes, setting off her alluring eyes.

"Don't stop."

He leaned close, his lips almost feathering hers, eyes watching.

"Tell me you want me," he breathed.

"No." She growled, impatient. His lips nipped at hers, angry. Dominating. She whimpered, her lips searching his when he broke away.

"Tell me you want me," his voice hoarse.

"Not a chance." She smirked deviously.

Damn, she was hot. Minx.

He surged towards her, his lips cascading on hers.

It was electric. The feel of her lips, so soft and inviting, her tongue hot and wet in his mouth. She twined her hands in his hair, pulling his body flush to hers. She moaned into his mouth as his hips grinded into hers. It was like something inside him had snapped. His hands were everywhere, her legs wrapped around his waist, their tongues dueling for dominance. He groaned as he felt her nipples harden and he pushed her shirt aside, his fingers searching. His fingertips kissed the swell of her breast and his mouth followed. She threw her head back, letting him explore and traipse his teeth across her skin, nipping. He soothed it with a whorl of his tongue. He moved to her neck, finding purchase behind her ear, where she cried out, her throat contracting in a glorious moan.

"Yes," she exhaled in a breathy keen, "oh god, castle." His mouth sucked the taut vein rising from her white neck. Her hands pulled at his hair, bringing him back to her mouth; her insistent, clever mouth.

"You're beautiful," he gasped between kisses.

She stopped, taken aback. A blush colored her cheeks a delicious pink and her lips attacked his with a new fervor. Her hands found a new task in untucking his shirt and pushing it off. Her fingers glided over his broad shoulders and teased his abs, leaving a hot trail in their wake.

He lowered her gently on the bar's gleaming surface, the hazy light an ephemeral glow. Her perusal of was him intoxicating. He felt alive. Her touch set him aflame, igniting a feeling he'd long been denying, a feeling threatening to burst out. He stamped it down.

"Your shirt is still on," he growled, "no fair."

"Why don't you unbutton it for me?" Her breath uneven and sultry.

"With pleasure." His fingers fumbled with the tiny circles, slipping over their shiny surface. Screw it. He tore her shirt, the damn things popping from the seams and clattering to the floor.

Her shirt slithered from her shoulders as he tugged it away, revealing an expanse of creamy skin and a lacy, black bra, teasing him, beckoning. He kissed her chastely, but she responded hot and frantic. He slowed her down with a strong sweep of his tongue, gentle and tender. The feeling he'd clamped down was burgeoning as he slowly caressed his lips over her skin, mapping the dips and curves of her heaving chest and smooth stomach.

Climbing up her body, a flash of heat uncoiled in his stomach at the sweet friction of skin against skin. She felt amazing. He kissed her soundly, eliciting a keening noise from her that made his blood rush south.

"Oh god, Kate."

Her hands were busy finding his buckle when his hands blocked her.

"Stop."

She looked at him confused and adorably tousled, absolutely stunning.

"What's wrong? Isn't this what you want?"

His brow furrowed, the feeling pushing for release.

"Yes, wait. No."

"No?" She looked hurt.

"No, that's not what I mean."

"What then?" She prodded, curious at his flustered expression.

"I just—I mean, I—"

"A writer at a loss for words, oh the irony."

"Do you know how sexy that is? You're so smart and beautiful and I can't stop thinking about you, Kate."

The words were coming now; fueled by the feeling he felt whenever he saw her. The feeling that made him get coffee for her every morning because he wanted to see her smile, to feel their fingers touch when he gave it to her. The feeling that kept him coming back.

"Kate, I can't. I want this to be right."

She smiled nervously, "I think we threw right out the window when you broke my shirt."

"Kate, I'm serious."

"Castle, I don't know what this is. I thought—"

"What? You thought what?"

She puffed air through her cheeks in frustration. "I don't know. You're not serious, Castle. You crack jokes. You make up nonsensical theories. You like busty blondes and fast cars."

"Is that what you think of me?" Her words sliced through him, cleaving his heart in two.

"Yes. No—maybe? You confuse me, Rick. I don't know what to feel around you." She shivered her admission unbidden. She looked at him, her eyes searching.

"Do you want me?"

She glanced away, nodding slightly.

"Say it."

She nervously smoothed a crease in her pants.

"Say it, Beckett."

She snapped her eyes to his, huge and afraid.

"Castle, I can't. I'm scared."

"It's just me."

"But that's just it. It's you. Wherever I go, I can't think straight. You're there. You get me coffee and somehow it's more than that. You make up a stupid theory and I want to kiss that damn smile off your face, and—"

His lips stopped her, swallowing her words. Her eyes slammed shut and she cupped his face, her lips softly sipping his. This kiss was different. It was slow and careful. It was everything.

It ended all too quickly, her lips leaving his with one last silky swipe.

Her hands left his face, curling in her lap.

"Castle, we can't."

"I know. But I'm not leaving." _I'll wait. _

She smiled at that, shaking her head. "Ok." She slipped from the counter, picking up her shirt in one smooth motion.

He admired the view as she leaned over. She looked back, catching his heated gaze.

"Castle!"

"Sorry." He smiled, not sorry in the least. She rolled her eyes and threw his shirt at his face.

He chuckled and pushed his arms through his shirt, haphazardly tucking it in.

"Walk you out?"

Her eyes swept over him, taking in his tousled hair and swollen lips. "Uh-" she blinked. "Yeah, sure."

He smirked knowingly.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"Uh huh."

He unhooked her jacket from the coat rack and held it open, ready for her to step in. She rose an eyebrow at him, but slipped her arms through the sleeves. His back crowded hers, his lips feathering her ears. He couldn't resist, tracing his mouth down her ear, roving to her tantalizing neck where he peppered kisses.

He felt her sigh, a catch in her throat.

"Ca—" He found a silky spot of skin, sucking on it, soliciting a breathy gasp from her.

"Rick!" He pulled away as she turned to glare at him. She was so cute when she was flustered.

"You good?" she huffed.

He grinned. "Yeah, I'm good now."

"Kay, well, I, uh, bye." She pushed the door open, the cool air blasting through the widening crevice.

He followed her, snatching her arm before she could go further.

"Wait. See you tomorrow?"

She stopped, her eyes glittering and wide, something indescribable flaring in her gaze.

"Tomorrow." She acquiesced, a small smile playing at her lips. "Night, Castle."

"Until tomorrow, Detective."

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**A/N: I know, I know, they're not the kind to cheat. Grant me some artistic license. Tell me what you think! **


End file.
